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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27982251">Like a Comet Pulled from Orbit</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raiyn/pseuds/Raiyn'>Raiyn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Dance, Ballet Dancer Oikawa Tooru, Dancer Hinata Shouyou, Dancer Oikawa Tooru, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hip Hop Dancer Hinata Shouyou, M/M, college age characters, with a tiny dash of angst in the middle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:07:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27982251</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raiyn/pseuds/Raiyn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa Tooru is a ballet dancer at Seijoh Academy preparing for his final year showcase, a high-stakes performance that will decide his entire career. He meets Hinata Shouyou, a first year hip hop dancer who's had some unfortunate luck in his first few weeks of school. It's an encounter that ends up changing both their fates for good.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>105</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Like a Comet Pulled from Orbit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>A massive thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Feyre">Feyre</a> for beta-reading this fic! I give her my endless love and gratitude. &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  Golden rays of sunlight streamed through the warm dance studio, reflecting off the mirrored wall and casting long shadows of the ballet barre onto the sprung wood floor.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru took deep, shuddering breaths in the center of the room, sweat trickling from his forehead and dotting the ground around him. His limbs ached. A day’s worth of classes was already punishing at the Seijoh Academy of Fine Arts, and yet he felt compelled to continue the torture, dancing in his favorite practice studio until long after the rest of his classmates had gone back to the dorms to relax and get a start on their homework.
</p>
<p>
  He swiped at his forehead with the back of his hand, scattering more drops of sweat to the ground. A small part of him was also tempted to return to the comfort of his apartment, but he chose instead to step back over to the control console and start his music once more. 
</p>
<p>
  “Five, six, seven, eight,” he counted, beginning his dance by lifting his arms up high in a graceful arc. He dashed to his left, leaping high off the ground. He arched his torso backwards as his legs formed the splits in midair. He landed with ease and turned in a series of increasingly faster pirouettes, before closing his eyes and losing himself in the steps that had taken years to choreograph. This was his program. It was the culmination of everything he’d learned during his time at Seijoh Academy: hundreds of hours of blood, sweat, and tears, all for a single, career-determining performance at the end of the year. 
</p>
<p>
  The academy capped off every year with a showcase, with an expert panel of judges flying in from around the country. As part of the graduating class, high marks from the panel would translate to offers from any number of prestigious ballet companies—an opportunity he would not squander.
</p>
<p>
  He just needed to get his choreography perfectly polished. As the music faded away, Tooru was once again in the center of the room, breathing heavily. He slowly opened his eyes, feeling a bit dazed from the afternoon’s non-stop exertion. 
</p>
<p>
  He screamed when he spotted another person in the room from the corner of his eye.
</p>
<p>
  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” A boy was crouched at the door, ducked under the window to the hallway. He was frantically gesturing with his arms in an attempt to calm Tooru down.
</p>
<p>
  “Who are you? What the hell are you doing here?”
</p>
<p>
  With another glance up at the window, the boy gingerly stood up, giving Tooru a small bow. He was quite short, Tooru observed, and his orange hair was wild and stuck up in odd places. “I’m Hinata Shouyou. I, uh…” he tapered off, tapping his fingers together. “I’m a first year here.”
</p>
<p>
  “A first year? What major?”
</p>
<p>
  “Dance,” Shouyou said quickly.
</p>
<p>
  “Dance? I don’t recognize you.”
</p>
<p>
  “Oh well, uh, I’m pretty inconspicuous, you know.” The boy flippantly waved a hand around, as if the idea of being recognized by a fellow student in the tiny dance department were absurd.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru frowned, scanning him from head to toe. Surely Tooru would have had <em>some</em> memory of him from the last few weeks of school. Also…
</p>
<p>
  “Why aren’t you in your uniform?”
</p>
<p>
  “Oh! Uh, funny story.” Shouyou pulled at the collar of his very baggy shirt. “Some other first years convinced me to try break dancing, and I ended up ripping my uniform to shreds. I had to borrow some clothes from them.”
</p>
<p>
  “Ah, so you’re a hip hop dancer.”
</p>
<p>
  “Yup!” The shorter boy beamed for the first time, and Tooru was stunned. He was actually quite cute, despite his rather questionable choice in clothing and hairstyle.
</p>
<p>
  The smaller boy stepped closer to him, his eyes brightening. “You’re a ballet dancer, right? Your choreography looked <em>amazing
  </em>!” He flapped his arms in a paltry imitation of Tooru’s movements, and Tooru had to laugh at his feeble attempt.
</p>
<p>
  “That’s right, Chibi-chan. I’m a third year. Name’s Oikawa Tooru.”
</p>
<p>
  “You’re a really fantastic dancer, Oikawa-san! Watching you makes me want to dance too.” He hopped forward, doing a few quick pops of his chest before executing a clean robot maneuver. He didn’t miss the surprised expression Tooru tried to suppress, and he hit Tooru with another one of his dazzling smiles, obviously pleased with the attention.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru quickly coughed into his hand and rearranged his face into a smirk. “Oh, Chibi-chan’s got some moves too, huh?”
</p>
<p>
  “You bet!” Shouyou strolled over to the control console, fumbling with the screen for a bit.
</p>
<p>
  “Hey, don’t—”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru’s music came blasting on, and much to his surprise, Shouyou bounced to the center of the room, closing his eyes as he assumed a pose.
</p>
<p>
  The music was far from a hip hop beat. It was classical, for god’s sake. Tooru could only quirk an eyebrow at Shouyou’s back.
</p>
<p>
  When the string instruments came in on the track, Shouyou sprang to life. He smoothly glided and popped to the notes and seemed to be in perfect control of every single muscle in his body. Tooru was mesmerized. This was different from any hip hop dancing he had seen; Shouyou moved sensually, somehow matching the elegance of the music and suffusing it into his popping and locking.
</p>
<p>
  He took Tooru’s breath away. 
</p>
<p>
  Tooru was still standing slack-jawed when the music ended, watching Shouyou’s eyes open again in the mirror. The orange-haired dancer adjusted his clothes and gave Tooru a little grin. “How was that?”
</p>
<p>
  “How… how on earth?” Tooru caught himself staring and shut his mouth. “That was impressive, Chibi-chan.”
</p>
<p>
  “Thanks!” Shouyou let another one of his smiles brighten his face (and really the whole room, thought Tooru), and he kicked a foot up casually, scratching the back of his head. “Say, Oikawa-san…”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru tilted his head at him expectantly.
</p>
<p>
  “Do you think you could teach me some ballet?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru knitted his eyebrows. “Don’t the first years all learn some ballet?” It was pretty tough for the non-classically trained dancers in the program, too, from what Tooru remembered.
</p>
<p>
  “Oh… y-yeah, but, I want to learn it from you!” Shouyou put his hands together in a pleading gesture. “Please? I can do hip hop, but I want to learn more! I want to learn everything about dance.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru chuckled at the hungry look in the small dancer’s eyes. “What’s in it for me, Shortie-pie?”
</p>
<p>
  “I can teach you some hip hop!”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru folded his arms across his chest, mouth twisting. All students also received some basic hip hop training in their first year, although nothing beyond the basics was required if you planned to specialize in another type of dance. He wouldn’t mind learning some more, especially from someone who could dance like <em>that</em>. On the other hand, Tooru wasn’t the type to pass up a chance to milk the opportunity.
</p>
<p>
  “I dunno, Chibi-chan, I’m going to need a bit more than that. I <em>am</em> a lot more experienced than you...”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou considered this for a moment. “I could cook dinner for you? I’m a pretty good chef too!”
</p>
<p>
  Well, that was intriguing. Tooru tapped his chin. “How would you feel about cooking for me <em>and</em> my three roommates? I have cooking duty tonight, and honestly I’d rather be doing anything else.”
</p>
<p>
  The little dancer’s eyes widened ever-so-slightly, but he took the request in stride. “I could do that! It’d be worth it to learn from you, Oikawa-san.”
</p>
<p>
  “You flatter me, Chibi-chan.” Tooru succumbed to the temptation to reach out and ruffle Shouyou’s hair. It was as soft and fluffy as it looked. “We have a deal then. Let’s get going if we want to eat at a reasonable hour.”
</p>
<p>
  Despite school having been in session for a few weeks now, Shouyou was remarkably unskilled at navigating the halls of Seijoh Academy. He also seemed downright astonished by some of the decor they passed (“Was that a marble bust?” “Yeah, of the school’s founder”) during their walk. 
</p>
<p>
  The dance studio was on the top floor, and Shouyou paused to admire the view of the sprawling campus in the floor-to-ceiling window at the hallway’s end, the gleaming glass buildings of the school and the student lodgings reflecting the orange and purple hue of the sunset. Once he’d had his fill, they clambered down four flights of white marble stairs and then out the large glass double-doors for the short walk to Tooru’s apartment. All the while, the first year trailed behind Tooru like a little puppy, making occasional gasps of delight and awe. Tooru supposed Shouyou hadn’t gotten much of a chance to explore yet. As a third year, Tooru had long become desensitized to the Academy and its lavish decor, and it was humbling to see the school from the eyes of a new student once more.
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  Tooru ushered his underclassman into the apartment with little fanfare, stepping around the piles of shoes left by his roommates in the entryway. They squeezed through the narrow hall to arrive in a modestly-sized living room empty of people but filled with enough discarded articles of clothing, books, and papers to make it plain that several roommates with questionable tidiness resided there.
</p>
<p>
  “I’m back! I brought a guest,” he shouted.
</p>
<p>
  Matsukawa was the first to pop his head into the living room. “Yo,” he said simply, giving the two of them a short wave before wandering off in the direction of the kitchen.
</p>
<p>
  “Matsukawa Issei,” Tooru narrated to Shouyou. “He’s majoring in drama, specializing in playwriting. He also—” Tooru stepped towards him and ripped a bag of snacks from his hands. “—likes to steal my food.” 
</p>
<p>
  “A guest, Oikawa? That’s unlike you.” The sound of Hanamaki’s slippers padding down the hallway grew louder, until he, too, appeared in view. 
</p>
<p>
  “Hanamaki Takahiro,” Tooru pointed. “Drama major as well, but he actually acts.” Matsukawa scowled, and Tooru pretended not to see him. Hanamaki just snickered and elbowed his friend good-naturedly. “And what do you mean ‘unlike you’? I’m popular, I bring guests over all the time.”
</p>
<p>
  “Yeah, but not for dinner,” Hanamaki interjected, winking at Shouyou. “Just the part that comes after.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru covered Shouyou’s ears with his hands. “Shut it, Makki, don’t ruin his innocence.” He peeked his head into the hallway leading to their bedrooms, finding all the doors closed. “Where’s Iwa-chan?”
</p>
<p>
  “You called?” Iwaizumi stepped inside the living room, the front door shutting with a heavy <em>slam</em>.
</p>
<p>
  “Iwa-chan, come meet my guest.”
</p>
<p>
  “Shittykawa has a guest?”
</p>
<p>
  “I know, I was surprised too,” Hanamaki called.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru dragged a palm down his face. Why did he think this would be a good idea?
</p>
<p>
  “He’s not just a guest.” Tooru stepped to the side and presented Shouyou with a grand flourish, like he was on a game show. “He’s also our chef for tonight! Everyone, meet Hinata Shouyou, first year dance major.”
</p>
<p>
  Iwaizumi crossed his arms. “Our chef?”
</p>
<p>
  “Iwaizumi Hajime. He’s a music major, and a major grump.”
</p>
<p>
  Iwaizumi scowled. “Trashykawa, you’re making a first year cook for us?”
</p>
<p>
  “I’m not <em>making</em> him! He wanted to learn ballet.”
</p>
<p>
  “So you’re taking advantage of him, got it.” Iwaizumi shoved past Tooru to enter the kitchen with the rest of the group. “Hinata, don’t let this guy bully you. You don’t need to cook for us.”
</p>
<p>
  “Oh, don’t worry! I like cooking, I’m happy to! Especially if I get to learn dance from Oikawa-san in return.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru watched smugly as his roommates exchanged wide-eyed glances above Shouyou’s head.
</p>
<p>
  “Well…” Makki was the first to break the silence. “If it means we don’t need to eat Oikawa’s shitty cooking tonight.”
</p>
<p>
  “You’re all traitors,” Tooru muttered, as his roommates burst into laughter. Even Shouyou giggled a little, eyeing him for his reaction. “Alright, alright. Introductions are over. Chibi-chan, let me show you what we have.”
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  The little guy did actually know his way around a kitchen, Tooru mused as he watched Shouyou expertly dice carrots next to him. The two of them had settled into a comfortable rhythm: Shouyou took the lead on the recipe, and Tooru helped him out with more menial tasks like measuring out volumes of chicken broth. 
</p>
<p>
  The others had migrated back to their rooms, content to wait for the announcement of dinner. They made their excuses, of course: the kitchen didn’t fit more than two people, too many cooks spoiled the broth... Tooru would have called them out on their bullshit, but he was already passing off his kitchen duties to Shouyou, so that didn’t make him much better. Plus, Tooru was somewhat glad to have Shouyou all to himself. He’d only known the dancer for a few hours, but there was something <em>special</em> about him, and Tooru was all too happy to converse with him away from the prying ears of his roommates.
</p>
<p>
  Dinner was a hearty helping of chicken pot pie. The crust was decadently flaky and the filling was rich, buttery, and utterly <em>divine</em>, and Tooru would have thought Shouyou had simply ordered from a gourmet restaurant if he hadn’t watched him construct the meal himself. 
</p>
<p>
  The table had no shortage of compliments for the little chef, who blushed and glowed at the praise.
</p>
<p>
  “Oikawa, I’m glad you had the sense to teach ballet to this guy.” Matsukawa waved his spoon around in Tooru’s general direction. “This is amazing.”
</p>
<p>
  “Damn right,” Iwaizumi piped up next to him. “Best decision you’ve ever made, Shittykawa.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru rolled his eyes. “Thanks, I sure feel the love right now.” 
</p>
<p>
  “When are you coming back, Hinata? We can certainly use more of your cooking.” Hanamaki noisily spooned the last of his pot pie into his mouth, clanging his silverware against the empty plate.
</p>
<p>
  “So, actually, about that…” Shouyou looked around the table, before suddenly shoving his chair backwards and bowing all the way to the cold tile. “Could I actually crash here for a bit? I’m sorry for imposing so much on you all.”
</p>
<p>
  The group craned their necks to observe the curious sight of the first year flattened on their floor.
</p>
<p>
  “Crash here? What about your dorm room? Don’t all the first years get a spot?” Matsukawa scratched his chin.
</p>
<p>
  “Wait, I heard about some rooms that got burned down recently.” Iwaizumi looked quite taken aback. “Were you in that dorm?”
</p>
<p>
  “Oh, uh…” Shouyou popped his head back over the table. “Y-yeah.”
</p>
<p>
  Hanamaki gave him a puzzled look. “You’re a strange guy, Hinata. You managed to burn down your own room?”
</p>
<p>
  Iwaizumi frowned at Hanamaki. “I doubt it was him, he can actually cook. Apparently someone in the common kitchen managed to set a blaze so strong that it burned the floor above. Thankfully no one got hurt.” He looked back at Shouyou, who was fidgeting and still kneeling on the floor.
</p>
<p>
  “R-right.” Shouyou exhaled. “I didn’t have anything to do with the fire.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru peered down at him. “So you don’t have a place to stay? What have you been doing the last few weeks then?”
</p>
<p>
  “Oh, just crashing at various friends’ places. I’ve been bouncing around though, I didn’t want to take too much advantage—”
</p>
<p>
  “You’re welcome to stay with us,” Matsukawa interrupted. “I think we can all agree that we’d like more of your cooking.” Heads nodded around the table. “You can stay in Oikawa’s room.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru pouted. “Why my room?”
</p>
<p>
  “He’s your guest, Shittykawa. Also, we’ll let you off cooking duty if Hinata’s around.”
</p>
<p>
  The other roommates nodded meaningfully at the suggestion, and Tooru felt himself sighing. “Fine, fine. Chibi-chan, you can stay with me.”
</p>
<p>
  “Really?” Shouyou bounced up, looking like he wanted to dive onto Tooru but was restraining himself. “Thank you so much Oikawa-san! And everyone!” He bowed towards the table again. “I’ll make sure you all eat very well!”
</p>
<p>
  “No worries, Hinata,” Matsukawa spoke with his mouth full. “Come back and eat, don’t want to waste your delicious cooking.”
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  “Thanks again for letting me stay, Oikawa-san.” Shouyou hesitated in the doorway as Tooru rolled out a futon. It was a tight fit, and the futon took up all the available floor space between his bed and his little closet, but it looked comfortable enough. Shouyou was small.
</p>
<p>
  “Don’t worry about it, Shortie-pie,” Tooru waved him in. “Sorry that your room got burned down.”
</p>
<p>
  The dancer stayed silent, and Tooru glanced up to spot him fidgeting again with his hands.
</p>
<p>
  “I don’t bite, you know.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou tiptoed inside and shut the door slowly, creaking it along so that it closed without a sound. “I’ll try my best not to be in your way, Oikawa-san.”
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan, it’s really alright. Just think of yourself as an honorary roommate. Besides, dance majors have to stick together. The department is brutal after all.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou nodded. “What were you practicing for today, anyway, Oikawa-san? I didn’t expect anyone to be working so hard in the studio this early in the year.”
</p>
<p>
  “The showcase, what else?”
</p>
<p>
  “Showcase?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru furrowed his brows. “Do you really not know about the showcase?” When Shouyou shook his head, Tooru blinked. He scratched his head, trying to come up with words for an explanation he’d never needed before.
</p>
<p>
  “The end of year showcase is the most important performance you’ll ever have to do. A panel of professionals will rate you on a scale of 1 to 10.” Shouyou’s eyes widened as Tooru continued. “If you get an overall score below an 8/10, you’ll be asked to leave the school. Each year, only about half the class comes back.” Shouyou’s mouth fell open.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru chuckled and stepped over the futon to ruffle Shouyou’s hair again. “Hey, don’t worry. Your dancing is great, you’ll be fine.”
</p>
<p>
  He chewed on his lip, but he relaxed a bit at Tooru’s words. Cute.
</p>
<p>
  “Anyway, we can worry about that tomorrow. Go get ready for bed. My bathroom is that way.” Tooru pointed to the door at the other side of the room.
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou gingerly set his bag next to the closet door. Tooru watched curiously as the little dancer rummaged inside before extracting a toothbrush. Did he really only have a backpack’s worth of possessions? 
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou made a nimble leap over the futon and almost crashed into Tooru’s neglected desk, stacked with boxes of ballet shoes and tights that couldn’t fit in his closet. He threw Tooru a sheepish look as he pulled open the bathroom door, but Tooru just chuckled, stretching out on his bed as he waited for his turn to wash up. What a funny day it’s been, to bump into a cute guy who dances like a dream, and who happened to have some rather unfortunate luck in his first few weeks. Tooru flopped over to one side stiffly, feeling some muscle aches from his extra practice. He squinted at the wall as he considered Shouyou, who he could hear humming in the shower. There was still something unusual about him that Tooru couldn’t quite place.
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  The next morning, Tooru was surprised to find Shouyou in the same baggy clothes he was wearing the day before.
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan, do you not have any other sets of the uniform you can wear?”
</p>
<p>
  He watched the small dancer stiffen. “I don’t,” he gave a nervous laugh. “It’s okay, no one seems to mind that I go around—”
</p>
<p>
  “Let’s go shopping in the afternoon. I’ll take you.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou glanced back at him. “Are you sure? Don’t you want to practice?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru waved a hand. “That’s okay, I’d rather see you more comfortable walking around. Don’t you feel a bit out of place, going to classes like that?”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou glanced down at his black baggy shirt and equally baggy shorts. He shrugged and gave Tooru a little smile. “Thanks Oikawa-san.”
</p>
<p>
  “Meet me at the same studio as before once classes are done,” Tooru waved to him from the breakfast table.
</p>
<p>
  The day’s classes passed achingly slowly for Tooru. He would glance up at the clock in between exercises and balk at how only a few minutes had elapsed. He wasn’t quite sure what had prompted him to drag Shouyou on a spur-of-the-moment shopping trip, but he was determined to see the small dancer in a uniform—and a uniform that actually fit him. 
</p>
<p>
  He wondered idly how Shouyou had managed yesterday without getting into trouble. The teachers and hall monitors tended to be pretty strict about uniforms in general. But, perhaps they were more lenient these days, given the fire and everything.
</p>
<p>
  The moment his last class (History of Dance, <em>snore</em>) ended, Tooru bolted up the steps, flinging the door of the studio open.
</p>
<p>
  “Ah, Chibi-chan, you’re very punctual.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou bounced up from where he had been sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Oikawa-san! How were classes for you?”
</p>
<p>
  “The usual, I suppose. Professor Eamon had some feedback on my showcase choreography. She wants me to try breaking out of my comfort zone a bit, though I’m not exactly sure what she means by that. I’m already trying out some pretty unusual elements this year.”
</p>
<p>
  The small dancer nodded, seeming to contemplate his response. 
</p>
<p>
  “What about yours, Shortie-pie? Gotten used to the pace yet?”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou started a bit, as if he weren’t expecting the question. He quickly shuffled to pick up his bag from the side of the room. “Ah, you know… it’s rough as always. I feel a bit of a crick in my neck now from all the drills.” Shouyou rubbed the back of his neck to demonstrate. “Anyway, where are we headed, Oikawa-san?”
</p>
<p>
  “There’s a shop a few blocks down. We can take a walk.”
</p>
<p>
  “Let’s go!” He exclaimed, and Tooru couldn’t help but grin at his energy.
</p>
<p>
  A short while later, the bell jingled above the door to the little uniform shop. Tooru steered a timid-looking Shouyou inside as the musty scent of the store assailed their noses.
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan, why do you look so scared? It’s just a shop.”
</p>
<p>
  “I uh… no reason, Oikawa-san.” He glanced around the room, looking rather lost.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru tutted. “Over here.”
</p>
<p>
  He waved Shouyou over to the designated Seijoh Academy section, sizing him up as he walked over. “Hmm, maybe you’re a small.” Tooru plucked a lilac shirt from the racks and handed it to Shouyou. They carried on through the rest of the section in similar fashion, with Tooru squinting at the small dancer and giving his best guess for the sizes of the cream sweater, the pants, and the jacket.
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan, are you planning to help me out with the sizing here, or are you just going to stare?”
</p>
<p>
  “Oh, well… you know, I tend to get things that are far too baggy. So, your guess is actually probably better than mine, Oikawa-san.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru just rolled his eyes. “Alright, go try them on and see how they fit.” He pointed Shouyou towards the changing rooms.
</p>
<p>
  The small dancer emerged a few moments later, fiddling with sleeves of his lilac shirt and trying to tug them through the jacket arms. Tooru, who had been passing the time by scrolling through his social media, nearly dropped his phone. 
</p>
<p>
  “How do I look, Oikawa-san?” Inquiring amber eyes gazed up at him, and Tooru allowed himself only a quick scan of Shouyou’s body. He sucked in his breath. One look was enough—Shouyou was, to put it politely, extremely fit. To put it impolitely, he was <em>hot</em>. 
</p>
<p>
  He also didn’t seem to know it. He tugged awkwardly at the jacket, clearly unused to the way it clung to his defined arms.
</p>
<p>
  “You look… great,” Tooru breathed. He shook himself. Now was definitely not the time to let his mind wander. “One more thing…”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru plucked a red tie from the shelf nearby, stepping closer to Shouyou. When Shouyou looked down at the offered tie with a bewildered expression, Tooru just chuckled. “What am I, your wife?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru wrapped the tie around Shouyou’s collar. He paused for a moment, squinting at the ceiling as he mentally mirrored the motions he ran through each morning. His fingers deftly produced the knot, and he stepped back to admire his handiwork, only to notice that Shouyou’s face was as bright red as the tie.
</p>
<p>
  “Did I tie it too tightly?” Tooru wasn’t sure why his voice cracked all of a sudden. His ears felt hot.
</p>
<p>
  “No, it’s perfect,” Shouyou squeaked. 
</p>
<p>
  They stared at each other, and Tooru could feel the heat spread from his ears into his cheeks and down his neck. 
</p>
<p>
  “L-let’s go checkout.” Tooru pretended to scratch an itch in an effort to return his face back to a normal expression. “Go change back, Chibi-chan.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou just nodded and disappeared behind the curtain again, and Tooru breathed out very slowly, forcing his muscles to untense. It’s just a school uniform… the same one he wears all the time. 
</p>
<p>
  The walk back to the apartment felt mechanical, and the air felt thick. Tooru caught his gaze flitting down to Shouyou every few steps, and it took great effort to resist the urge to reach out and throw an arm around the small dancer’s shoulders or grab his hand. Tooru shoved his hands into his pockets instead, trying his best to focus on Shouyou’s light conversation.
</p>
<p>
  When they finally arrived back in Tooru’s <em>(their)</em> room, Tooru cleared out some space in the closet, adding more clothes to the growing mound on his desk. Shouyou carefully hung up the uniform set, taking great care to smooth out the wrinkles. He looked back at Tooru with a smile.
</p>
<p>
  “Thanks, Oikawa-san. It makes me happy to have a uniform,” he said quietly. “Again,” he added.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru stepped forward to ruffle his hair, one of his favorite habits now. “You’re welcome, Chibi-chan. I’m happy to see you get back on your feet.”
</p>
<p>
  He meant it. He tried not to let his thoughts wander back to how Shouyou looked in his new uniform nor his bashful look when he stepped out from behind the curtain. But when the lights went dim in their shared room, those thoughts filled his dreams anyways.
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou slipped into Tooru’s routine naturally, as if he had always been around. Tooru would usually wake up a little bit before him, but by the time he re-emerged from the bathroom, the futon would be rolled and stowed, and Shouyou would be dressed and packed for the day. They’d trade places, Tooru changing and packing while Shouyou washed up, and then they’d exit the room together to have breakfast. The other roommates were also usually bustling about at this time, and they’d trade some jokes at the dining table. Class schedules varied a bit from year to year and from day to day, so some mornings Shouyou would head out first, other times the third years would, and occasionally they would get the blessing of all walking together, extending their chats another ten minutes or so until they had to part ways at the first year classrooms.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru and Shouyou also began their mutual dance lessons in earnest. They met after classes each day, Tooru bolting up the steps the moment lessons were over. Inevitably he would fling open the door and find Shouyou already there and changed into his dance clothes, even though the first year classrooms were a few more floors down.
</p>
<p>
  “How do you always get here so quickly, Chibi-chan?”
</p>
<p>
  “I just run fast, that’s all, Oikawa-san.”
</p>
<p>
  “That eager to see me, hm?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru walked Shouyou through all the positions and basic steps for ballet, patiently explaining and re-explaining when the hip hop dancer forgot the dizzying list of French words that Tooru had grown up with. Shouyou picked up the movements quickly, though he was still far from mastering the art. Tooru corrected his form as he tried each step, arching his foot, adjusting his hip down, straightening or bending his knees as appropriate, and tucking his fingers into a more elegant position than the splayed out mess he naturally put them in.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru was surprised to find himself enjoying the process of teaching. He had always thought himself somewhat impatient with everyone, including himself, and he often expected perfection when it was unattainable. With Shouyou, however, there was an art to the imperfection—a little flavor he added to each ballet movement he attempted, a harmonious mix of his hip hop background and the elegant ballet that Tooru was trying to instill in him.
</p>
<p>
  Of course, Tooru also learned hip hop, as part of their deal. He was far less adept at changing his style than Shouyou was; every movement he made felt stiff and awkward. He struggled to loosen up, and he was never quite able to shake his hips and chest with as much energy as Shouyou seemed to. The hip hop dancer showed him the basics of isolations and waving, giggling good-naturedly as Tooru attempted to mimic him, looking more like a tangle of limbs than anything. 
</p>
<p>
  It had been weeks now since their dance lessons had started. Tooru realized this with a jolt, when Shouyou remarked that after dozens of lessons, he still hadn’t learned to just <em>relax</em> into the hip hop movements.
</p>
<p>
  “I’m <em>trying</em>, Chibi-chan. It’s not easy to undo literal decades of ballet, you know!”
</p>
<p>
  “I know, I know.” Shouyou was grinning at him with a hint of teasing, a typical response when Tooru started getting a bit huffy. He did it because it worked, and Tooru could feel himself deflate at the sight of the little dancer’s smile.
</p>
<p>
  He watched as Shouyou put his hand to his chin, his face twisting adorably as he thought. His next grin was sly, mischievous, and Tooru almost took a step backwards away from him.
</p>
<p>
  “What’s that look on your face, Shortie-Pie?”
</p>
<p>
  “Do you trust me, Oikawa-san?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru hummed, delaying his response longer than he really needed to. Shouyou just crossed his arms, a smile still playing on his lips.
</p>
<p>
  Was he really going to wait for him to say it? “Chibi-chan, what are you planning?”
</p>
<p>
  “Trust me?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru nodded, and Shouyou went to his backpack to dig around for something. He stepped towards Tooru with a spare shirt.
</p>
<p>
  “It’s clean, I promise,” he said, when Tooru gave it a wary look.
</p>
<p>
  “Do you want me to put it on? That’s not going to fit me you know.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou ignored the gibe at his size. “Bend down for a sec.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru obliged, curiosity getting the better of him. Shouyou swiftly tied the shirt around his eyes as a makeshift blindfold, and Tooru squawked.
</p>
<p>
  “What are you doing?”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou’s voice came from somewhere to his right. “I think you should try dancing without looking at yourself.”
</p>
<p>
  “But then how am I supposed to tell what I can do better?”
</p>
<p>
  “That’s exactly the point. Stop analyzing, just dance.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru could feel his nerves start to get the better of him. Obviously he couldn’t see himself during performances either, but that was after months or even years of practicing the steps, rehearsing them over and over until his muscles had memorized every bit of movement he needed. To try that with hip hop, still a completely foreign style to him, and without the sense of sight entirely…
</p>
<p>
  A warm hand on his right arm caused him to nearly jump out of his skin. 
</p>
<p>
  “Hey… you’ll be great, Oikawa-san. Just trust in yourself.” He could hear the smile behind his words.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru gulped. “I… okay. Let’s try it, Chibi-chan.” 
</p>
<p>
  The hand on his arm slid away, and he heard light footsteps head towards the control console to start the music. Shouyou picked a pop tune, which Tooru recognized as one frequently blasted by their party-minded neighbors.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru stood frozen as the music continued to play, now several bars in. What was he supposed to do? 
</p>
<p>
  Some claps came from the back of the room, matching the beat. “Five, Six, Seven, Eight!” Shouyou shouted.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru felt his legs move like they had a mind of their own. At first he did some odd steps that felt more like ballet than hip hop, but eventually the music dug its way into his mind, and he just grooved along to the beat, waving his arms, moving his torso from side to side, and bobbing his head whichever way it pleased him in that moment. He danced without a care in the world, and part of the way through the song he realized he was laughing and grinning so hard that his face hurt. 
</p>
<p>
  When the song faded away, a bubbly laugh came from behind him, and Tooru felt his blindfold get untied as he stood panting in the center of the room. 
</p>
<p>
  “You looked like you were having a lot of fun, Oikawa-san!” Shouyou was beaming from behind him, his head peeking out from Tooru’s side in the mirror.
</p>
<p>
  “It’s been a long time since I’ve just <em>danced</em>. That felt really nice.” Tooru placed a hand to his forehead, still feeling a rush of adrenaline. As he glanced at Shouyou’s bright smile in the mirror, he felt a surge of affection bubble forward. Dancing with Shouyou was fun, invigorating—a reminder of why he loved dance so much in the first place. 
</p>
<p>
  He turned to face Shouyou, his heart still pounding rapidly. He leaned down and planted a kiss on Shouyou’s lips, surprising them both.
</p>
<p>
  “I… I like you, Shouyou,” he blurted out, feeling the truth behind the words as he voiced it outloud. “You make dancing feel <em>fun</em> again. You make me want to try harder, put more love and energy into my movements.” Words far sappier than he thought he had in him came bursting forth, and he was just babbling now—perhaps he should just stop talking for a moment.
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou had been standing frozen, eyes wide. Tooru’s nervous energy returned when Shouyou opened his mouth but remained silent.
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan? Say something? I did just confess to you.” Tooru tried for a teasing tone, but it came out more anxious than anything. He felt his chest clench.
</p>
<p>
  “Oi-Oikawa-san,” Shouyou stammered. “I… I…”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru frowned, feeling his blood run a bit colder at Shouyou’s expression. “Shouyou, are you alright?”
</p>
<p>
  “You… you can’t. You can’t like me.”
</p>
<p>
  “But I do? I’m pretty sure the feelings have been there since I first saw you dance, but—”
</p>
<p>
  “Just… wait, wait a bit, okay? I… I need to think about all of this.”
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru tried to place a hand on Shouyou’s shoulder, but he was already sprinting out the door.
</p>
<p>
  “<em>Shit</em>,” Tooru announced to the empty room. Had he misread all the signs?
</p>
<p>
  Tooru walked back to the apartment alone, still in a daze and struggling to make sense of what had happened. Shouyou wasn’t there, and he didn’t pop back into the apartment until it was time to prepare dinner. It was his turn to cook.
</p>
<p>
  The kitchen was silent minus the brief, terse instructions Shouyou gave to him. Tooru snuck glances at him in between washing the vegetables and measuring out the various ingredients, but Shouyou appeared to be lost in thought each time he looked over. A few times from the corner of his eye, Tooru caught Shouyou opening his mouth, and Tooru waited with bated breath to hear what he’d say, but Shouyou would just close his mouth again and carry on, squeezing his eyes closed in an expression of frustration. Who he was frustrated with, Tooru couldn’t tell.
</p>
<p>
  “Dinner’s ready!” Shouyou shouted, making Tooru jump. He could hear his roommates thundering down the hall.
</p>
<p>
  “Hinata! What’s for dinner today?” Matsukawa arrived first, grasping the heavy pot from Shouyou’s hands to lift it up onto the dining table.
</p>
<p>
  “Vegetable curry.”
</p>
<p>
  “Smells <em>amazing</em>,” Hanamaki commented. “I’ll get the plates and bowls.”
</p>
<p>
  “I’ve got the rice,” Iwaizumi called behind him as he padded into the kitchen. “Oikawa?” He frowned at Tooru as he entered. He lowered his voice. “Oi, Shittykawa, are you alright?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru plastered a smile onto his face. “Of course, Iwa-chan! Why wouldn’t I be?”
</p>
<p>
  “You’re blocking the rice. Normally you’d be sitting at the table, already eating.”
</p>
<p>
  “I’m fine, I’m fine.” Tooru stepped past Iwaizumi to head to the table. A hand gripped his shoulder.
</p>
<p>
  “Iwa-chan?”
</p>
<p>
  “Did something happen between you and Hinata?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru’s face must have given it away, because Iwaizumi let go of him with a sigh. “Let me know if you need to bunk in my room for a night.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru felt a genuine smile cross his face for the first time that evening, though it was short-lived. “Thanks Iwa-chan. I—I think I'll be okay.”
</p>
<p>
  Iwaizumi just nodded, waving him outside. Tooru plopped down in his usual seat at the table, with Iwaizumi following shortly after with plates of rice. 
</p>
<p>
  Dinner conversation was largely Hanamaki and Matsukawa bickering over whether <em>Wicked</em> being the next school musical was an exciting event or a boring, overly safe choice by the department.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru sullenly pushed around his curry and rice on his plate. Normally the aroma alone would have had him gobbling it down, but his mind kept wandering, and his stomach just churned. He was petty enough to feel satisfaction that Shouyou across the table wasn’t faring much better. He’d let a ladle of curry overflow his plate and spill onto the table, causing Matsukawa and Hanamaki to finally look up from their argument. Iwaizumi hurried off to the kitchen and returned with a towel to help Shouyou soak up the extra curry. It was only then that Matsukawa and Hanamaki seemed to sense the tension in the air, and the two of them glanced between Tooru and Shouyou with looks of equal parts confusion and worry. 
</p>
<p>
  They ended up offering to do the dishes, which Tooru gratefully accepted. The thought of spending more silent moments in the cramped kitchen with Shouyou felt downright exhausting.
</p>
<p>
  The living room was large enough that they could all spread out, content to do homework for a while or unwind a bit with some television. The distraction worked for a while, but when they all retired to their beds for slumber, Shouyou still hadn’t met Tooru’s eyes all evening, and Tooru had finally had enough.
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan, it’s okay if you don’t return my feelings, you know.” Tooru said from his bed into the darkened room. He didn’t hear a response before he drifted off to sleep.
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou was waiting in the living room the next morning, fidgeting in his pajamas still as the third years scrambled about. They had a special mid-year assembly that day, requiring them to be up an hour earlier than usual. None of them felt awake enough to question how Shouyou managed to get up before them.
</p>
<p>
  “Oikawa-san, can I talk to you for a minute? All of you, actually?” Shouyou was tugging on the back of Tooru’s jacket. His eyes were surrounded by purple, and deep crease lines stretched across his forehead. Tooru and the others all paused, Iwaizumi and Matsukawa already out the door, and Hanamaki midway through tugging on his shoes.
</p>
<p>
  “Sorry, Chibi-chan. We all need to get going, or we’re going to be late.” The words came out more icily than Tooru intended, and he felt a pang in his chest when Shouyou looked like he’d been slapped.
</p>
<p>
  “O-okay, Oikawa-san. I’ll talk to you in the evening then.” Shouyou gave them all a weak smile as the door shut in his face.
</p>
<p>
  The assembly was over by lunchtime and third year classes had been cancelled for the day, so the roommates returned back to the empty apartment for a quick lunch. 
</p>
<p>
  “Say, Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi voiced as they bustled about the kitchen, trying to cobble together a meal from whatever leftovers still remained in the fridge. The others all turned to his direction. “I saw something odd on the way back from the assembly. There was a group of second years throwing a party outside a dorm, celebrating.”
</p>
<p>
  “In the middle of the day? What for?”
</p>
<p>
  “That was the dorm that burned. They were celebrating getting to go back to their rooms.” Iwaizumi looked meaningfully at Tooru. “It was a <em>second year</em> dorm, Oikawa.”
</p>
<p>
  “I thought Hinata was a first year.” Hanamaki piped up. “He is, right?” He shot a look at Tooru, who could only nod.
</p>
<p>
  “That’s… pretty weird.” Matsukawa chimed in with a look of confusion that likely mirrored Tooru’s. 
</p>
<p>
  “Something is… not adding up.” Tooru’s eyes fluttered around the room, but nothing came into focus for him. He thought back to the day he met the hip hop dancer, crouched in the studio. He jumped to his feet, causing the roommates to startle.
</p>
<p>
  “Oikawa? Where are you going?”
</p>
<p>
  “You guys eat lunch without me. I need to talk to Chibi-chan.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru sprinted back to the school, racing up its steps, peering into every room he knew the first years took class in. No orange hair in sight. Where could he be? Tooru’s heart pounded as he raced up another flight of stairs.
</p>
<p>
  Finally, he spotted him, in the same studio they always met in. Tooru burst through the door. 
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan!”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou slowly turned to face him, eyes wide and looking utterly terrified.
</p>
<p>
  “Tooru?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru froze. That voice. 
</p>
<p>
  “Pr-Professor Eamon,” Tooru stuttered, voice coming out entirely too high-pitched. “Fancy seeing you here.”
</p>
<p>
  “I could say the same to you, Tooru. You seem to know ‘Chibi-chan’ quite well.”
</p>
<p>
  “What’s… what’s happening?” Tooru looked frantically between his professor, stern and imposing at the front of the room, and at Shouyou, who was kneeling, practically cowering on the floor.
</p>
<p>
  “Hinata Shouyou here,” Professor Eamon continued, her steely gaze never leaving Shouyou’s face. “Has been caught sneaking onto school grounds. For months, apparently.”
</p>
<p>
  “Sneaking?” Tooru blinked at Shouyou, who winced but didn’t meet his gaze.
</p>
<p>
  “Sneaking,” Professor Eamon repeated gravely. “He is not a student here.”
</p>
<p>
  The pronouncement hung in the air, like the last echo of an orchestra’s final note. 
</p>
<p>
  Tooru’s mind raced. It was like the last puzzle piece of the mystery that was Shouyou had been slotted into place. Everything that didn’t make sense from the last few months suddenly came into sharp, clear focus. His lack of uniform, the dorm room, the fact that he didn’t know about the showcase. That he always seemed to be in the studio before him. He didn’t want to believe it, he wanted to shove it all away, but...
</p>
<p>
  “Shouyou,” Tooru breathed. “Is that true?”
</p>
<p>
  The dancer’s shoulders sagged at the sound of his name. He looked so vulnerable.
</p>
<p>
  “I just wanted to attend the academy,” he said softly, voice breaking at the end. “I couldn’t afford to actually come, so…”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru felt his initial shock boil over into a contorted mixture of sadness and anger at Shouyou’s betrayal, but he did his best to stamp it down. He could deal with that later. He turned again to his professor. 
</p>
<p>
  “What’s going to happen to him, Professor Eamon?”
</p>
<p>
  Professor Eamon sighed from the front of the room. She turned towards the windows, staring out into the distance. “Ordinarily, we’d call the police for trespassing.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou gasped. “Please—”
</p>
<p>
  “I’ll vouch for him.” Tooru heard himself say. He glanced down at Shouyou quickly, and his voice gained more conviction. “He’s an amazing dancer. Let me vouch for him.”
</p>
<p>
  Professor Eamon faced him again, squinting at him through her small, rounded glasses. “Tooru? You really want to get wrapped up in this?”
</p>
<p>
  “Professor!” Shouyou had stood up now, eyes blazing for the first time in the conversation. “Please, Oikawa-san had nothing to do with this. He didn’t know. I’ve been lying to him too.” He moved to stand between Professor Eamon and Tooru.
</p>
<p>
  “Shouyou. Sit. Down.” Tooru couldn’t control the venom in his words. He gritted his teeth as Shouyou sank down to the floor again. “Professor Eamon,” he fought to regain a more neutral tone. “I’m serious. You should see how he dances. I may not be a hip hop dancer, but even I can tell he has something special—a hunger for it, and an ability to absorb all elements of dance and make them his own.”
</p>
<p>
  Professor Eamon’s eyebrows ticked upwards. “Tooru,” she began, and Tooru felt her eyes scan every inch of his face. He gulped. “You know you’re one of my favorite students. That’s quite a statement, coming from you. Do you mean that?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru tried his best to keep his voice from shaking. “Yes.”
</p>
<p>
  Professor Eamon turned back to the window, and Tooru felt himself exhale. “Students these days,” he heard her mutter. Her expression was a smidge softer when she looked back at the two boys. Her eyes danced between them as she tapped a finger against her cheek. “I won’t call the police.”
</p>
<p>
  From the corner of his eye, Tooru could see some of the tension in Shouyou’s shoulders lift.
</p>
<p>
  “Tooru.” Her head snapped towards him, and Tooru straightened automatically. “Since you seem so determined to tangle yourself into this mess, I’ll issue you a joint deal. The two of you will perform the end-of-year showcase together.”
</p>
<p>
  “What?” Tooru heard his voice mingle with Shouyou’s in the cold studio. 
</p>
<p>
  “You heard me. You will perform the showcase together.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru’s mind reeled. The showcase? Together? “We’ll do it, Professor.”
</p>
<p>
  “I’m not finished, Tooru,” the professor peered over her glasses to observe his reaction. “If you don’t receive good marks from the judges, Shouyou will be permanently banned from this campus, and <em>you</em> will not be allowed to graduate. So once again, I’m asking you, are you <em>sure</em> you want to do this?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru swallowed, hard. Was he really willing to stake his whole career, his whole <em>future</em> for this? But he thought back to his moments with Shouyou in the dance studio. Shouyou’s passion and drive—his sheer <em>joy</em> for the art of dance, and how alive Tooru felt when they were <em>together</em>. And he knew there was no other answer he could give.
</p>
<p>
  “It’s a deal, Professor.”
</p>
<p>
  “Professor, no, you can’t let him—!”
</p>
<p>
  “Let him decide, Shouyou.” Professor Eamon silenced him with a single finger. “Your friend is putting his reputation on the line for you, so you better not let him down.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou bowed his head. Professor Eamon sighed at him. “You are dismissed, Shouyou.”
</p>
<p>
  The small dancer rose up to his feet again, looking distraught and dazed. He walked towards the door, giving a pleading glance at Tooru before exiting the studio.
</p>
<p>
  Professor Eamon waited for his footsteps to fade away before turning to Tooru once more.
</p>
<p>
  “Tooru,” she sighed. “I really hope you know what you’re doing. I would hate for my best student to never graduate from the Academy.” She finally gave him a small smile as she scanned over his tense body, helping him relax a hint. “I look forward to watching you both at the showcase,” she said, by way of dismissal.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru shakily walked back to the door as well.
</p>
<p>
  “And Tooru?”
</p>
<p>
  He froze with his hand still gripping the knob. He glanced back to the front of the room as the afternoon sunlight bathed the studio. His professor had a full smile on her face now, her arms folded gently across her chest as she added softly: “Between you and me. If you do well at the showcase, I’ll personally make sure Shouyou has a scholarship to attend next year.”
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  “Oikawa-san,” Shouyou called to him as he exited the building. Tooru’s heart was still pounding from their conversation with Professor Eamon. 
</p>
<p>
  “Shouyou, just—just leave me alone for a bit, alright? So much has happened the last few days.”
</p>
<p>
  “I—I just wanted to apologize. I wanted to explain everything this morning. You really don’t have to do this.” Shouyou sounded a bit breathless.
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan, I know I just put my career on the line for you. I meant what I said about your dancing. God, I still <em>like</em> you, even though I just learned you’ve been lying to me all this time. Will you just <em>accept</em> it already?” He snarled. “Now, leave me the <em>fuck</em> alone.”
</p>
<p>
  He stormed back towards the apartment, not missing Shouyou’s grief-stricken expression but choosing to ignore it all the same. All of his earlier sadness had morphed into anger. If he didn’t get Shouyou out of his sight, he might not be able to stop himself from shoving the small dancer to the ground.
</p>
<p>
  He shook his head as he approached the door to his place, trying to clear his mind. No, what he needed most right now was a quiet soak in a scalding hot bath and a long, long nap. He would deal with everything when he woke up.
</p>
<p>
  The room was dark when he opened his eyes again. He fumbled around for his phone, finding it on the floor near his bed. It was past 9pm, and his stomach growled to wake up, while his mind moaned to fall back asleep.
</p>
<p>
  The stomach won in the end. Tooru stiffly threw back his covers and padded to the kitchen, wondering if he should just make some instant noodles to get dinner over with. When he opened the fridge doors, he was surprised to find a note with his name on it, stuck to a leftover container. It was Shouyou’s neat handwriting, and the back of the note contained a few lines of instructions for reheating.
</p>
<p>
  Popping open the lid, Tooru was hit with a wave of rich, mouth-watering aroma. Steamed egg custard in dashi broth. Comfort food.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru spooned the custard into his mouth at the dining table without turning on the lights. His roommates were working hard in their rooms, and Shouyou was nowhere to be found. But this was what he wanted—to be alone, right?
</p>
<p>
  Nevertheless, he picked up his phone and his thumb hovered over Shouyou’s name. He should at least say ‘Thanks,’ he supposed.
</p>
<p>
  The one-word text message was sent and quickly responded to with a simple heart emoji. Tooru stared at the heart for a long time. It pained him to rewrite all his memories of Shouyou since they met. Everything made sense, and nothing made sense. Ultimately, what hurt most was that Shouyou didn’t trust <em>him</em>. After so many months of sharing a room, teaching each other dance, even a confession… Tooru didn’t know what to think anymore.
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  Tooru walked up the stairs slowly after class, half-wondering if he would find the studio room empty this time. He was pretty sure Shouyou had slipped into his room late at night, but in the morning the futon was rolled up neatly, and Shouyou was no longer in the apartment. Only the wet toothbrush in the bathroom indicated he was present at all. His roommates gave him knowing looks as he walked through the living room for breakfast, but no one brought up the past day’s events. Shouyou must have briefed them over dinner, he supposed. How lucky for them, to hear it from Shouyou first.
</p>
<p>
  Every moment, Tooru fought an internal battle with himself. A tiny part of him wanted to sprint back to Professor Eamon and take back their deal and go back to the way things were before he ever met the small dancer. 
</p>
<p>
  He knew that wouldn’t happen though. He knew he had to keep going. They were in this together now, and it was easiest to set his mind to the next thing that needed to be done: figuring out what to do about the showcase, now that it was to be a duet instead of a solo performance.
</p>
<p>
  His hand shook as he slid open the studio door. Shouyou was in the middle of the room as always, the sunlight catching in his hair and creating bright highlights in his locks. The sight still caused Tooru’s heart to skip a beat. He got up quickly as Tooru closed the door again.
</p>
<p>
  “Hey,” he said softly. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come today, Oikawa-san.”
</p>
<p>
  “We do need to still perform the showcase together,” Tooru quipped, trying to joke his way out of the awkwardness he felt. It didn’t quite work.
</p>
<p>
  “Oikawa-san, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you, or your roommates. I’m sorry you’re in this mess because of me.” 
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan. I will defend your dancing to the ends of this Earth. But, I just… I don’t understand <em>why</em>. Why didn’t you trust us? Why didn’t you trust <em>me</em>?”
</p>
<p>
  “I was… afraid. It’s not that I didn’t trust you. I just…” Shouyou turned to him, meeting his gaze for the first time. His large amber eyes looked duller than usual, and the skin around them was even puffier than the last time Tooru had seen him. “I like you, Oikawa-san. I really like you, and I didn’t want you to think less of me.”
</p>
<p>
  The confession caught Tooru off guard. His heart ached as it finally heard his feelings returned, but Tooru wouldn’t allow himself the gratification of dwelling on it too long. “I still wish you hadn’t lied to me, Shouyou. I wouldn’t have thought less of you. You’re still the same dancer. You’re still you.”
</p>
<p>
  “I know. I wish I could take it all back.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru ran a hand through his hair, stalling for time on his reply. “Honestly, Shortie-pie, I’m still processing all of this. I guess I understand why you did it, but that doesn’t just make it okay.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou nodded. “I’ll do my best at the showcase to make it up to you, Oikawa-san.” He pounded his fist into his open palm with a determined look on his face.
</p>
<p>
  “Hmph.” Tooru felt a little smile tug on his mouth despite his current tangle of emotions. “You better, Chibi-chan. Prepare yourself, I’m going to put you through the most intense dance training you’ve ever had.”
</p>
<p>
  The session was, as expected, arduous, but it needed to happen. If they were required to do the showcase together, then Tooru had to correct every deviation of Shouyou’s form. The hip hop dancer would look sloppy next to Tooru at his current skill level.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru sighed to himself as he adjusted Shouyou’s hip down for the dozenth time that afternoon. 
</p>
<p>
  “How are you feeling, Chibi-chan?” He asked on the way home. Shouyou was wincing with each step.
</p>
<p>
  “I’m… fine, Oikawa-san.” Another lie. When Tooru raised an eyebrow at him, Shouyou smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. It hurts, and I discovered muscles today that I didn’t know existed before, but I’ll be okay.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru hummed. “I’ll run an ice bath for you at home. That always helped me feel better.”
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  “Oikawa-san?”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou’s soft voice sounded almost like it was from a dream. Tooru blinked open his eyes to the darkness of the room, his mind caught on its way to slumber.
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan? What is it?” Tooru rolled onto his side towards where Shouyou was, even though it was too dim to see anything. It somehow still felt more intimate this way, having a conversation facing each other.
</p>
<p>
  “Thank you. I realized I haven’t thanked you yet.”
</p>
<p>
  “Oh, for the bath? That’s—”
</p>
<p>
  “No, I mean, for everything. For letting me stay, for the lessons, for vouching for me, for… for putting your future career on the line. I’m really grateful.”
</p>
<p>
  “Shouyou…” Tooru dipped his arm down to gently brush the lump of blankets that swaddled Shouyou. To his surprise, warm fingers threaded between his own, and Tooru felt his heart pound a little harder in his chest.
</p>
<p>
  “I was trying to hide from the hall monitors when I ran into you that day. I didn’t know what I was doing. I just hopped on a train and snuck into the Academy on a whim. All I knew was that I wanted to learn how to dance from the best.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru softened, feeling the knot of emotions in his chest loosen. “I can understand that, Chibi-chan. To love something so much, and to want to get better, desperately, no matter what pain you have to go through.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou’s hand gripped Tooru’s harder. “Yeah, exactly,” he whispered.
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  With Professor Eamon’s blessing, Shouyou was allowed to sit in on classes as a prospective student. 
</p>
<p>
  (“I wouldn’t want to give my favorite student even more of a handicap,” she had said. “Shouyou, I expect you to work hard in class, just like if you were a part of the Academy. We won’t go easy on you.” 
</p>
<p>
  “Yes, Professor Eamon!”)
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou made friends with the other students easily, and he now walked up to their practice studio with some of them each afternoon. Tooru could hear their laughter coming up the stairwell, and it irked him a <em>tiny</em> bit that Shouyou was no longer the first one in the studio, eager to get dancing. Mostly though, he was happy that Shouyou no longer had to pretend he was someone he was not.
</p>
<p>
  Their lessons shifted to Tooru drilling Shouyou in ballet and trying to walk him through all of the showcase choreography. To Shouyou’s credit, he was learning ballet fundamentals at a dizzying pace, all things considered. Tooru tried to keep that in mind each time he gave another correction for his misplaced arms, his unpointed foot, and his untucked butt. The showcase was only two months away now, and Shouyou was still struggling.
</p>
<p>
  Would they actually manage to pull this off? The question echoed in the back of Tooru’s head throughout his day, during dinner, and even rang in his subconscious as he slipped off to sleep. He started having nightmares of Shouyou crumpling during the showcase, or of himself accidentally kicking Shouyou during their leaps. Once, he even dreamt that the both of them managed to fall off the stage entirely and crash through the judges table, earning them an instant disqualification.
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou noticed the strain, though he didn’t bring it up directly. Tooru could tell by the extra strong coffee Shouyou had started brewing for him in the mornings. The hip hop dancer worked even harder during their lessons, and a few times Tooru walked out from the bathroom at night and found Shouyou practicing the movements, one hand braced against the wall for balance. They were both aware that time was ticking down, and that Shouyou was not ready.
</p>
<p>
  And as if the stress of the showcase weren’t enough, Tooru’s mind continued to drift towards the little sparks between him and Shouyou. The boundary that had previously existed between them was now almost gone, torn down by their mutual confessions, though some small fragment still remained to taunt Tooru through the days and weeks.
</p>
<p>
  In the mornings, Tooru would sometimes step out of the bathroom and find Shouyou in the middle of changing, and he’d turn to greet Tooru while slowly buttoning up his lilac uniform shirt. Tooru couldn’t help but stare, following the lines of Shouyou’s impressive pecs and abs as his fingers worked to close the view, and when Tooru dared to look up to Shouyou’s face, he could almost see a look of hunger in the small dancer’s eyes. Tooru’s breath would catch in his throat, and he’d want to rip the shirt off of Shouyou before he could finish buttoning. But he’d let his hand drop back to his side each time, and Shouyou would softly brush by him on his way to the bathroom, humming to himself as he slid the door closed.
</p>
<p>
  During their rehearsals, Tooru tested the boundaries as well. Each correction he lingered more than he perhaps should on Shouyou’s legs, arms, and hips. A beat past what was reasonable and Shouyou would give him a knowing glance, tilting his head towards Tooru as if daring him to go further. He’d lean into Tooru’s hands, and once or twice Tooru heard a soft sigh escape from the hip hop dancer’s lips. But neither of them pressed the issue. It was as if they’d reached an unspoken agreement: <em>not yet</em>.
</p>
<p>
  In the evenings, they adopted one more unstated ritual. Exhausted from each day’s practice sessions, the two of them would flop down on their respective beds, and then quietly extend a hand towards the other, until their fingers interlaced. Each night, Tooru contemplated asking Shouyou to come up to his bed, if only just for completely innocent cuddles under the same blanket. He never managed to voice those thoughts out loud. Instead, they fell asleep, arms still outstretched, neither of them wanting to let go first. Those quiet moments, Shouyou’s warm hand in his as he drifted off, were probably the only thing keeping Tooru sane as the showcase drew ever closer.
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  “Tooru, a moment please?”
</p>
<p>
  Professor Eamon called to him as he packed his bag, just before he was about to sprint upstairs to the studio.
</p>
<p>
  “Yes, Professor?”
</p>
<p>
  They only had a month left until the showcase. Every moment of practice was precious now, and Tooru felt himself itching to finish this conversation as quickly as possible. Especially given the scrutinizing look Professor Eamon was eyeing him with now, as if she could peer through his very soul.
</p>
<p>
  She gave him an amused smile. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere but here. Settle down, Tooru.”
</p>
<p>
  “Sorry, Professor Eamon.” He managed to still the fingers that he’d been unconsciously wiggling.
</p>
<p>
  “I wanted to check in with you and Shouyou. How is the showcase performance going?”
</p>
<p>
  “It’s…” Tooru bit his tongue. Shouyou still needed so much work with his form, his movements, <em>everything</em>, but he couldn’t tell Professor Eamon that. “It’s going fine.”
</p>
<p>
  She just laughed in his face. “Tooru, come now. I’ve known you for three years, you think I can’t tell when you’re hiding something from me?”
</p>
<p><em>Shit</em>. “Shouyou’s ballet still needs some work,” he admitted. 
</p>
<p>
  To his surprise, Professor Eamon just snorted. “Of course it does, he’s a hip hop dancer, is he not?”
</p>
<p>
  “I’m sure he can get it down before the showcase,” he said, more to convince himself than anything.
</p>
<p>
  “He won’t.” 
</p>
<p>
  Tooru couldn’t help his jaw dropping. “Professor Eamon?”
</p>
<p>
  “Tooru, I’m disappointed. I didn’t make this deal with you both to have Shouyou learn ballet.”
</p>
<p>
  “Then, what?”
</p>
<p>
  Professor Eamon sighed. “Tooru, what is it that you admire about Shouyou’s dancing?”
</p>
<p>
  “His love for it, his drive, his—”
</p>
<p>
  “Yes, yes,” she waved a hand. “What about technique-wise?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru thought for a moment. “He’s able to blend his style with the music. The first time I saw him he danced hip hop to—” He blinked. 
</p>
<p>
  Professor Eamon gave him a tired smile. “Dismissed, Tooru.”
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  “Oikawa-san! You’re later than usual,” Shouyou called from the barre, diligently executing his warm-ups.
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan.” Tooru dragged Shouyou from the barre and into the center of the floor. 
</p>
<p>
  “Wha—”
</p>
<p>
  “I was wrong, Chibi-chan. I was doing everything wrong.” Shouyou blinked up at him with those large amber eyes, and Tooru bit the inside of his cheek. He was getting ahead of himself. “Sorry, I… what’s the best way to put it? I’ve been holding you back, Chibi-chan.”
</p>
<p>
  “Holding me back? I don’t understand.” Shouyou’s face crumpled further into confusion. “You’ve been doing a great job teaching me, I’m loads better than before.”
</p>
<p>
  “Yes, but I haven’t been playing to <em>your</em> strengths. I’ve been too wrapped up in my ballet.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou scrunched his face up. “I’m still not following, Oikawa-san.” 
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan, the first time I met you, you managed to dance to my music, but it wasn’t ballet. It was hip hop.”
</p>
<p>
  “So you want us to dance hip hop? For the showcase?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru threw his head back and laughed. “As wonderful as that might sound, <em>I</em> can’t do hip hop.”
</p>
<p>
  The mirth seemed to soften Shouyou, and he put his hands behind his head in a small stretch. “Are you suggesting doing both? I do hip hop, and you do ballet?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru threw him a wink. “Let’s try it. Forget all the ballet choreography. Dance with me in your own style.”
</p>
<p>
  The small dancer put his hand under his chin in a thoughtful pose. “Alright. I have some ideas.” Tooru watched his bright amber eyes twinkle, and Tooru realized how much he had missed that look. His heart raced anew.
</p>
<p>
  When the music came on, Tooru lifted his arms as usual. The hip hop dancer matched his arm movements for a few beats, but when it was time for Tooru to dash to the left, Shouyou stepped aside, throwing himself backwards as if Tooru’s leap had pushed him. They coordinated motions as if they were passing energy back and forth between them. When the ballet steps were calmer, Shouyou kicked up his movements, popping or rolling and executing footwork so fast it almost blurred. When Tooru leapt and spun, Shouyou gave the stage back to him, holding a pose, or even a handstand for several beats to allow Tooru’s movements to hold the attention.
</p>
<p>
  The harmony was stunning, Tooru thought. <em>Shouyou</em> was stunning. He was in his element, and Tooru felt a surge of pride whenever the hip hop dancer perfectly melded a ballet position into his movements. His increased confidence was extremely sexy to behold, and the dancer’s eyes were smouldering whenever their gazes met in the mirror.
</p>
<p>
  Initially, Shouyou mostly danced around Tooru, but around halfway in, he got bolder. He stepped forward to partner with Tooru, not content to just dance next to him. He framed Tooru with his hand motions, and he spun Tooru around. When the ballet choreography had him bending, Shouyou splayed out on top of him, kicking his feet into the air.
</p>
<p>
  Finally, towards the finale of the music, Tooru lifted a foot high in front of him, and gasped when Shouyou sensually slid down his leg. He smirked into the mirror, and Tooru faltered, all of his remaining choreography tumbling from his grasp.
</p>
<p>
  The music stopped, and Tooru stared at the hip hop dancer’s reflection. 
</p>
<p>
  “Chibi-chan?”
</p>
<p>
  “Sorry, was it okay to do that? Maybe that was going too far...” Shouyou ruffled the back of his hair as a sheepish grin sprouted across his face.
</p>
<p>
  “N-no, it was just…”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou’s face was getting closer and closer. The exhilaration from the dance was still tingling through Tooru’s body, and now that the mounting stress of the showcase felt lighter than it had in months, he let himself relax. He let himself lean forward, and he let himself give in to all the temptations of the past months and kiss Shouyou once again on the lips.
</p>
<p>
  Much like their dance, the kiss started out sweet and innocent, but soon they both gave in to more carnal urges. They licked and tasted each other, losing themselves in the heat and wetness of each other’s mouths. Shouyou’s hair was slick with sweat when Tooru ran his hands through the dancer’s soft locks, as was Shouyou’s shirt when he peeled it off the dancer’s chest, revealing the rippling muscles that he’d been yearning to touch for so long.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru’s breath hitched when his lips made contact with Shouyou’s neck, then his shoulder, then his abs. He was dimly aware that they were still in a dance studio, stripping each other off on the floor, but his senses were buzzing with the sight, scent, and taste of Shouyou in front of him. And the sound of his moans from the ground.
</p>
<p>
  “Shouyou, I…”
</p>
<p>
  The hip hop dancer stopped pressing kisses to Tooru’s shaking hand for a brief moment, rising up again to kiss him on the mouth.
</p>
<p>
  “I still like you, Oikawa-san. Tooru?” He tried, whispering out Tooru’s given name against the pulse on his neck.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru shuddered in response. He’d never imagined first hearing his name from Shouyou’s lips in such a way, but now he would never be able to forget it.
</p>
<p>
  “I still like you too, Shouyou,” he whispered hoarsely as Shouyou’s fingers trailed down his back. “Does this mean… I can finally have you?”
</p>
<p>
  “I’m yours to take.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru pinned the smaller dancer to the ground with another kiss before grinding their erections together. He arched backwards at the pleasure, his eyes fluttering closed as their voices mingled in the warm studio air.
</p>
<p>
  “We could… go back… home—” Tooru gasped, his cock twitching as Shouyou thrust his hips into his while he spoke.
</p>
<p>
  “I don’t think I can wait that long, Tooru.” Shouyou purred his name from the ground, scattering any remaining bit of logic Tooru had managed to summon.
</p>
<p>
  “I suppose you do go after what you want, Shouyou.” 
</p>
<p>
  “And I want <em>you.</em>”
</p>
<p>
  Deft fingers hooked into the waistband of Tooru’s tights, tugging them off to reveal his dance belt. Shouyou licked his lips hungrily at the sight, and Tooru felt a blush travel down his neck.
</p>
<p>
  “I’ve wanted to see you like this for a while now,” he confessed. “It’s been hard not to stare, each lesson.”
</p>
<p>
  “Stare all you want then, Shouyou.” Tooru worked his fingers around the other dancer’s shorts. “But I get to stare too.” Tooru didn’t even bother to pause at the underwear. He wanted to see everything, <em>now</em>. He hooked his fingers and pulled down, exposing Shouyou’s hard cock to the air—and to his tongue.
</p>
<p>
  “<em>Tooru</em>,” Shouyou keened at the lick, much to Tooru’s satisfaction.
</p>
<p>
  “That’s right, Shouyou. Say my name for me.” He licked again slowly, all the way up the length, lapping up the salt and bitterness. Shouyou obliged, the sweet sound of his voice moaning Tooru’s given name ringing through the room.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru teased him for a while, licking up and down and swirling his tongue around the tip, taking great satisfaction in each uncontrolled thrust Shouyou made with his hips as he did so. 
</p>
<p>
  His own cock throbbed, straining against his dance belt. Tooru peeled that off too, no longer feeling shy now that Shouyou was trembling underneath him, lost to desire and pleasure.
</p>
<p>
  He swiftly kissed up the inside of Shouyou’s muscular thighs, feeling them tense under his lips. Another slow, lingering lick up Shouyou’s cock, and then he leaned over, gripping both of their cocks together with his hand.
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou’s gasp sent his own pulse fluttering, and he pumped them both together, groaning into the crook of Shouyou’s neck.
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou’s cock was hot and slick against his own. His hand was smeared with saliva and their mixed pre-cum, lending ample lubrication as he slid his fist up and down with faster and faster speed. Shouyou’s hands ran gently across his cheeks and through his hair. His nails lightly scraped down his back and then brushed down his ass, making Tooru jerk forward in surprise.
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou’s eyes were closed and his head was thrashed backwards on the floor, but a small smirk still flitted across his face at Tooru’s reaction. So cheeky. Tooru leaned down to kiss it off of him, licking his bottom lip until his mouth parted once more and Shouyou got to taste himself on Tooru’s tongue. The hip hop dancer’s small moan as their tongues collided sent shivers down the whole of Tooru’s body. He brushed a light finger across the tip of Shouyou’s cock, the action rewarded with more of those delightful, needy moans.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru broke away from the kiss to nip at Shouyou’s collarbone, his heart skipping at the little gasps that morphed into light giggles as he continued to bite his way across Shouyou’s skin. All the while, he maintained an even speed with his hand, bringing them both ever closer to the brink.
</p>
<p>
  “I didn’t know you were ticklish, Shouyou.”
</p>
<p>
  “Neither did—<em>ahhh.</em>” A hard pump of his fist had made Shouyou buck underneath him once again.
</p>
<p>
  “Tooru, I—I’m close…”
</p>
<p>
  “Me too, Shouyou—” Tooru urgently captured Shouyou’s lips with his own again. He wanted to feel his gasp, his pleasure. “Come for me, darling.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou’s hands on his back tensed and then slackened as he groaned against Tooru’s lips. Tooru felt the pulsing of Shouyou’s cock against his, warm cum splattering his chest. The sight was enrapturing, and Tooru felt himself get pushed over the edge too, his chest heaving forward as he continued to pump, guiding both of their orgasms as pleasure spiked through their bodies, until they were finally spent, panting against each other and shaking with aftershocks. 
</p>
<p>
  Tooru looked up to find the mirrors and windows foggy from their activity. Shouyou blinked owlishly at him for a moment, post orgasm clarity setting in for him as well.
</p>
<p>
  “Shouyou,” Tooru collapsed onto him. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou laughed beneath him, constrained by Tooru’s weight. “I guess next time we can go home.”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru hummed, stealing another kiss from Shouyou. “Tonight, forget the futon. I’m going to ravish you.” 
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p><hr/>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  Tooru placed a gentle hand in Shouyou’s hair as they waited backstage.
</p>
<p>
  “Nervous, Shouyou?”
</p>
<p>
  “Maybe a little…”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru couldn’t help but laugh. Shouyou was shaking from head to toe, and he looked paler than a corpse. Tooru pulled him in close. Just a few feet away, the large stage with its bright, polished floor was lit up by dozens of harsh spotlights. Here though, just off to the side, was a calming darkness. Tooru snuggled the small dancer, placing a light kiss at the top of his head.
</p>
<p>
  “You’ll do great, Shouyou. It’s just like we’ve been practicing. Plus, you have me around,” he winked.
</p>
<p>
  The action elicited a breathy giggle from Shouyou, and he appeared to untense a bit in Tooru’s arms.
</p>
<p>
  “Yeah. Just, there’s so much riding on this, you know?”
</p>
<p>
  Tooru pulled his fingers through Shouyou’s locks. “There is, but I’m sure we’re going to wow those judges. Our choreography is going to be like nothing they’ve ever seen. They’re not going to know what hit them.”
</p>
<p>
  Shouyou nodded into his chest, still clutching onto Tooru tightly. “I’m glad I have you as my partner.”
</p>
<p>
  A booming voice announced their names to the audience behind the velvet curtain, forcing them to untangle from their embrace.
</p>
<p>
  Tooru tipped Shouyou’s head up for a quick kiss. “Me too, Shouyou, I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tooru beamed at his partner, in dance and in life. “It’s showtime.”
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed my first OiHina! I'm delighted to contribute to this wonderful ship. &lt;3<br/>-Raiyn</p>
<p>  <strong>Quick Links:</strong><br/><a href="https://twitter.com/RaiynTea/status/1336820339435663362">Promo tweet with cover art!</a><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raiyn/profile">Upcoming fics</a><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raiyn/works">Posted fics</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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